


Do You Like Pirates..?

by WelpThisIsMyLifeNow



Series: Art Trades, Commissions, Gifts, and One-Shots [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Bonfires, F/M, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), all sweet no sour :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow/pseuds/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow
Summary: It’s a sweet bean’s birthday! Full of friends, and family, and fire, and... perhaps a certain skeleton.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Art Trades, Commissions, Gifts, and One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312277
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Do You Like Pirates..?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLetterRed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLetterRed/gifts).



Papyrus had been driving you _insane_.

Well, more likely, _you_ had been driving _him_ insane—which wasn’t your intention! He was constantly espousing how much your “BLASTED OPTIMISM” was getting on his very last of his already limited nerves. Whenever you two crossed paths (which, to Papyrus’s great dismay, seemed to be _quite_ often), he usually ended your conversations with a dramatic stomp-off and tirade about your “FOOLISHLY SUNNY” disposition. 

You often wondered—albeit never out loud—why he bothered to talk to you in the first place. 

In the moments _before_ his inevitable explosion, you honestly rather liked talking to him. He was passionate, and proud, and—on the most treasured, rare occasions—you saw how fondly and gently he treated his beloved cat, Doomfanger. As much as he tried to push others away _(especially you in particular)_ , you couldn’t help but believe in the goodness he so adamantly denied was there.

The last time you’d seen him, you had invited him to your birthday party—a handcrafted card made _just_ for him, in hopes that the extra effort would sway his favor. He hadn’t exactly accepted, and hadn’t _exactly_ refused—merely expelled a string of curses so long as to be bankrupted by the FCC before (as always) turning about face and stalking off.

It was now the evening of your birthday party—and although a large part of you doubted that Papyrus would make an appearance, you refused to let any such dark thoughts cloud your special day. If he showed up—a great and delighted surprise! If not, you would enjoy the time with your friends and family all the same.

You’d been running a bit late; the preparations for the night had taken a _little_ longer than expected, and you’d allowed yourself to indulge in an extra long shower before the party. Now fully dried and put together, you tugged on a cozy, thick sweater—a deep forest green—some warm pants, and your most comfortable pair of boots. Finally, you donned some gloves and a knitted hat—the ultimate line of cozy defense against the cold.

Fully prepped for the evening, you stepped outside. One of your birthday party attendees—a slightly odd ( _they often yelled about being evil?)_ but nonetheless encouraging friend was there, car at the ready to transport you. Hopping into the car, you were driven out of your town and to a nearby woodsy area—you selected place of choice for your party.

Your guests were already there—various friends and family members congregating and chatting idly—until they spotted you. The crowd of people gave a cheer, and you had a myriad of well wishes and congratulations on making it another year ‘round the sun. 

The air was bitter cold, but as you stepped into the circle of loved ones, you were instantly embraced by warmth, both soul-level and physical. There was already a massive bonfire set up, as well as several propane-fueled heaters surrounding the edges of your party area. There was a table of food and snacks, a cooler full of drinks (likely unnecessary with how cold it was), and soft, upbeat music playing from a set of speakers. Closer to the fire, there was even a table lined with foods that one could choose to cook over the open flame. 

It was _perfect_.

You spent the next few hours doing what you loved best—sitting in front of the fire, having easy, peaceful conversation with your family and friends. Every time the chill of deepening night seemed to curl inward, another log would be thrown on the fire and the heaters turned up—and, eventually, even the blankets came out. The peace of the moment almost became hypnotizing, the allure of sleep _almost_ getting to you as you sat cuddled up with two of your friends.

As you sat there, everything felt perfect… Well, except you _really_ wished a certain skeleton was here as well. You closed your eyes, a small smile on your face as the memory of him on one of his goofy tirades played out before your eyes…

You blinked awake, realizing you had dozed off for a moment. Perhaps a bit _too_ warm to stay alert, you decided to extract yourself and get a bit of fresh air to wake up—wanting to ensure you savored every moment of the night. Plus… although you severely doubted Papyrus would show up at this point, the bit of optimism inside you wanted to be sure you were fully awake, _just_ in case.

Using your very best ninja skills, you snuck away from the group unobserved, moving out into the darkness of the woods. 

Between the bare branches of the winter-sleeping trees, you got a wonderful view of the galaxy wrapping around the earth above you, seeming to hover _just_ outside of your reach. The sky was bright with a heavy-hanging, unobscured moon, and was surrounded by a swath of accompanying stars. Lowering your gaze as you walked, you noticed the fine, undisturbed layer of snow ( _save for the little patter marks of songbirds_ ) that coated the forest floor seemed to twinkle back at the stars above, a silent conversation among the universe. You were uncertain as to whether it was a trick of the brisk winter air, or just the magic bestowed on one’s birthday—but the entire world seemed all the lighter and more crisp. Thankfully, the night was still and quiet—no wind trying to snake under your layers and chill you—and the only sound to be heard was the delightful crunch of your boots against the snow-

_Wait… that sounds like more than just one pair of feet?_

You stopped and turned—just in time to see the wall of a chest crash into you.

You instantly fell back into the snow, the thick layer of fluff enough to thankfully cushion the impact on your bottom a bit. Wincing, you looked back at your unwitting crash-test dummy-

_Papyrus?!_

“ _FUCKING_ HELL-”

He too was now dumped onto his rear in the snow, looking somewhere between dazed and deeply aggravated (so, really, not too far off from how he normally appeared). Wearing a deep black leather jacket and pants, a blazing red scarf and boots, and a rather edgy looking skull belt, he look far more prepared for some sort of fashionable moshpit rather than a hike in the snow.

“Oh, shoot! Sorry, Papyrus, I…”

Your voice trailed at you spotted something laying askew in the snow, _just_ to the side of his leg. In the moonlight, you could see the glint of shiny wrapping paper surrounding a small box—the wrapping paper itself an olive-green base with swirling silver designs, tied up with a tiny bowed silver ribbon.

_Is… is that a gift? From Papyrus?_

Papyrus seemed to follow your gaze—his face a flash of startled surprise before he quickly snatched up the gift, the small box immediately hidden within the confines of his large gloved hands before stashing it into the pocket of his jacket. 

_Why hide it? Is… it not a gift for me after all? That doesn’t really make sense, but-_

“YOU _SHOULD_ BE SORRY,” he snapped irritably, hoisting himself up with only _minor_ inelegance. “WHO ARE YOU TO LEAVE YOUR OWN BIRTHDAY PARTY? ESPECIALLY FOR ANY GUESTS THAT MAY BE FASHIONABLY LATE?”

“Uh,” you hummed, head tilting back to look up at his tall stature. “I guess I didn’t count on anyone fashionable _actually_ showing up. I’m really glad you're here, though!”

The tall skeleton’s red eyelights glowered at you, seeming to not be amused or satisfied by your excuse. “AND ANOTHER THING—WHO THE FUCK WANDERS INTO THE WOODS ALONE? YOU’RE LUCKY I FOUND YOU—I SWEAR, IF I DROVE ALL THE WAY OUT TO THIS TRASH HEAP OF A PARTY JUST TO FIND YOU DEAD-”

“Hey,” you cut in. Your voice was soft at best—a note of hurt dampening any force behind it—but, surprisingly, it was enough to pause his tirade. “It’s a nice party. They all worked really hard on it, just for me, and that makes it the nicest party in the world. Don’t insult it, please?”

Papyrus was silent for a moment as he stared down at you—and then abruptly turned his head away, looking out into the depths of the forest as he folded his arms. “YES! WELL, IT’S NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT _I_ WOULD HAVE PLANNED—BUT I SUPPOSE IT’S NOT THE WORST PARTY EVER.”

You smiled, feeling much more content with that answer. The accompanying silence was filled with your body’s alert that you were not, in fact, snowproof—your behind feeling more like a buttscicle than flesh—and you began to try to get up.

After a false start, Papyrus rolled his eyes, murmuring a chiding “FUCKING…” under his breath. He then abruptly leaned down, grabbing your hands and tugging you up onto your feet at an almost dizzying speed. He steadied you carefully—despite having hands that seemed made for the express purpose of crushing steel, his hold on you was surprisingly gentle.

“WHAT WERE YOU EVEN _DOING_ OUT HERE? UNLIKE SUPERIOR SKELETONS, YOU PUNY HUMANS FREEZE AT THE SLIGHTEST OF CHILLS!”

“I wanted to get some air,” you said, rubbing your arms in an attempt to reclaim some warmth. “I’d been falling asleep and wanted to wake up.”

“JUST LIKE MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BROTHER,” he sighed. Dropping his hands from you, he placed them on his hips, striking (what you liked to call) his “Master of Sass” pose. “BUT I _SUPPOSE_ SINCE IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY, IT’S EXCUSABLE. IF YOU WANTED TO SLEEP, WHY NOT TELL EVERYONE TO FUCK OFF?”

Your face instantly alit as you remembered your skeleton-centered hope that had pulled you out here. You looked down, eyes tracing along the empty footsteps memorialized in the snow. “I, just uh… I wanted to stay awake, y’know?”

“FOR THE PARTY?”

Your flush deepened, and you stuck your hands into your pockets, leaving the question unanswered. There was a hanging silence as you desperately tried to figure out a better answer than the truth-

“ _WELL?_ HUMAN, BLAST IT, I DON’T HAVE ALL FUCKING NIGHT-”

“For you. _”_

Although you couldn’t look him in the face, you saw his arms reel up in shock as if you’d attempted to strike him. You closed your eyes tightly, wincing at your mouth’s betrayal. There was a heaviness in your chest that was difficult to stand—you knew he likely would chide you, but you couldn’t help but hope against hope that he’d not at least bail on you entirely-

A warm, fuzzed cloth brushed against your cheek—and when your eyes flew open, you saw that blazing red scarf was wrapped securely around your neck. 

“YOU… SHOULD KNOW THAT SOMEONE AS GRAND AS I WOULD TAKE MY TIME TO ARRIVE.”

Heart thudding in your chest, you looked up at him. Typically, at any such moment where tenderness _might_ be hinted at, he’d be looking away—but, for once, his stare was meeting yours, a _barely_ visible maroon hue on his cheekbones. When he next spoke, his voice was—without a doubt—the softest you had ever heard him speak.

“I Did, After All, Have To Ensure I Had The Perfect Gift.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out that small olive and silver bow-wrapped box to you. Even if _not_ gifted to you by a walking, talking skeleton, you would've thought it magical as it sparkled there among the bright moonlight. Holding it reverently, you almost didn’t want to open it—but, with a glance at Papyrus’s expectant ( _if not… nervous? No, couldn’t be)_ expression, you tugged at the bow and carefully pried apart the wrapping. 

Inside was a velvet box. Brushing aside your typical joke ( _you got me a box? Thanks, I’ve always wanted one!)_ you quickly opened the lid. 

Inside, a _gorgeous_ necklace sat—a fine silver chain with a skull pendant attached. 

“A skull..?”

You looked up at Papyrus, your stare a mix of confusion and—perhaps deeper further down—hope? Something in your look seemed to spook ( _should it be possible)_ the Malevolent Papyrus, and he took a slight step back from you, looking pointedly away. 

“YES. AHEM. I REALIZED YOU LIKE… PIRATES.” 

_Pirates? I mean, I do, but…_

Papyrus reached under the collar of his leather jacket and—to your intense surprise—pulled out a matching necklace. It had a much thicker, darker chain than the delicate silver one of your own—but with that same skull pendant, standing out quite brightly against his now blazing red face.

“I, TOO… AM A FAN OF PIRATES. THEY... OBVIOUSLY HAVE THE SUPERIOR CHOICE IN MASCOT.”

“They do…” you agreed cautiously, not really certain as to the sincerity behind his statement. You went to put it on—but Papyrus’s hands raised to pause you.

“ER-! LET ME DO IT; YOUR CLUMSY HUMAN HANDS WOULD PROBABLY BREAK SUCH FINE CRAFTSMANSHIP.” 

You stared at him for a beat—and _just_ before you could see the flicker of agitation spark—you placed the fragile jewelry into his massive hands and turned around. 

A slight tingle went up your spine as you felt his form approach you—it was _slightly_ intimidating, but you sincerely trusted him without a second’s hesitation. With great care and steady hand, he circled the necklace around your front before his hands returned to the back of your neck. You had _no_ idea how he managed it with his hands (and, perhaps more impressively, with gloves on), but after a short moment, he spoke. 

“...THERE. NOW TURN.”

Complying, you turned around for him—it settled in the center of your chest, practically glowing against your dark green sweater. You then looked up to him, smiling with sincere gratitude. 

“How does it look?”

Papyrus’s face turned up several notches, though he didn’t turn his stare away, red eyelights scanning the necklace before moving up to your face. “IT… LOOKS ADEQUATE.”

You flushed happily—your cheeks stinging from the cold—and grinned wide. “A compliment from the Amazing Papyrus? I’m honored.”

“WELL… IT IS THE CELEBRATION OF YOUR LIFE, YES? SO BE QUIET WHILE I TELL YOU THIS.” He took a deep breath, then continued—finally averting his gaze from you. “YOU ARE… FAR MORE KIND THAN ANY HUMAN OR MONSTER I’VE MET. ABSOLUTELY _AGGRAVATINGLY_ SO. IT IS A WONDER THAT YOU HAVE NOT YET BEEN TRAMPLED UNDER SOMEONE’S BOOTS AND LEFT FOR DEAD.”

Utterly bewildered, you merely stared up at him. _Uh… I can’t tell if this is a compliment or a lecture._

“IT IS FOR THIS REASON… THAT I HAVE DECIDED TO… SPEND MORE TIME WITH YOU. HOPEFULLY SOME OF MY FORTITUDE WILL RUB OFF ON YOU.”

“Oh,” you said simply—not disappointed, but instead more confused, looking down in thought. You touched at the pendant gingerly as it dangled from your neck, then looked back up at him, brows furrowed. “But… Why would you do that for me?”

He reared again, glowing sweat dotting his skull—something you’d only ever seen on his brother. “W-WELL! I… CONSIDER IT A CHALLENGE! IF ANYONE CAN KEEP YOU ALIVE, SURELY IT WOULD BE I! SO… WE SHALL BE DOING THAT.”

Though he said it as a statement, there was a silence left afterwards that seemed to want you to respond. The more you looked at him, the more his bravado seemed to waver.

_I… don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so nervous before._

Before you could regret it, a question was forming in your mouth—one that might have normally drowned you with anxiety—but here, among the peace of the forest and your dear friend, didn’t feel like such a challenging question to ask.

“Do you mean like a date? Or just hanging out?”

His skull was immediately eclipsed in such a bright shade of maroon that you wondered if someone had dumped a bucket of paint over it. 

“WELL-! I-! IF… IF THAT IS WHAT _YOU_ WANT TO CALL IT, I SUPPOSE... I SUPPOSE EVEN THE MALEVOLENT PAPYRUS IS _OBLIGED_ BY THE SACRED HUMAN BIRTHDAY OATHS TO AGREE.”

You grinned—the temptation to tease him _almost_ winning out against your better judgement—but merely nodded instead.

“I would. Mind if I _oblige_ you to help me walk me back? I’d hate to trip and lose this perfect gift, after all.”

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at you in slight warning at the tease beneath your tone—but his sharp grin nonetheless curled. 

“YOU ARE INDEED QUITE CLUMSY. FINE.” He propped his elbow up to you, and you gratefully accepted, wrapping your hand around the thick bones of his jacket-clad arm. As the two of you began to trudge back through the snow, Papyrus spoke again—though, as somewhat expected, he wasn’t looking at you as he did so. “AS… A CO-PIRATE ENTHUSIAST, YOU SHOULD WEAR THAT ALWAYS. IT WILL SHOW THAT… YOU HAVE SOME TASTES.” 

Daring to let out the breath of a laugh, you hugged his arm a little tighter, the warm glow within you far outweighing the cold around you. “Y’know, I think I will.”

For the rest of the night, you were sat by the fire, surrounded by friends, family, and—sitting _just_ by your side (by mere coincidence, of _course_ ) sharing a blanket—your dear skeletal friend.

Although you’d never mention the way his hand was placed lightly over yours under the shield of the blanket, your smile gave away one thing: this was a _wonderful_ birthday, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for the wonderful and amazing Shaka! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ Thank you for being one of the sweetest, most supportive and kind friendos this evil gal could ask for! I truly hope you liked it; you deserve the absolute perfect gift on your birthday! ^^ 💖
> 
> But wait, that’s not all! A MAJOR thanks to LadyIzo for helping me with this gift! And there may even be a second surprise waiting, [who knows c;](https://ladyizo.tumblr.com/post/642177298238488576/happy-birthday-shaka-sorry-the-pic-is-so)
> 
> Happy birthday Shaka! 💖


End file.
